


I Do Not Want This

by tenderguns



Series: Ruiner [3]
Category: At Dead Of Night (Video Game)
Genre: And Failing, NIN title. y'all get the drill., and trying to fight it, even if they are bc of the entity ur possessed by lmao, jimmy deciding he's done with whatever the entity possessing him is, jimmy learn how to not make young women feel like they're in perpetual danger challenge, maya cannot catch a break, touch-starved jimmy does Not know how to express anything to maya in a remotely appropriate way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderguns/pseuds/tenderguns
Summary: Jimmy begins to fight for himself.
Relationships: Jimmy Hall | Hugo Punch & Maya, Jimmy Hall/Maya - one sided
Series: Ruiner [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181951
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	I Do Not Want This

Young men are often of a certain disposition that allows them to easily become possessed. Of course, Jimmy isn't exactly _young_ \- he has to remind himself of that sometimes when he's checking in guests - but he remembers when he was, and what it was like, and he's holding onto that young man for as long as he can. There's a certainty of your place in the world that leaves you unguarded. It has been so long since he can remember letting his guard down - no, there was that moment in the lobby, when he met _her,_ but that's beside the point - and it's bittersweet to think of himself as entirely innocent of his destiny. This was his inheritance; maybe it's the bloodline, maybe it's this place, at this point it doesn't care. Odds are, this was probably going to be his lot in life however he played it. So there's nothing he could have done. There's nothing he can do. 

In the worst moments, Jimmy tells himself over and over again _this is not his doing_. That he is a vessel. He doesn’t know if he would have let himself live this long if he knew this _thing_ , as he has taken to calling it, was something that had always laid dormant inside of him. It’s something that rears its head when it wants to, seizes him for its own use, does what it wants. He can handle what the pain of it does to him as long as he is not doing it to himself. He prefers not to think about the pain it inflicts on others.

So here he is. It's harder some days than others. Whether the hotel is the _problem_ or not, it's a bad place to be. The energy some of these rooms have would be more comforting if he didn't know who those energies used to be. What they hold against him.

 _Maya knows_. His chest tightens at the thought. He's found that damned box before, knows where he's got it at the moment. He just doesn't know how _she_ knows how to use it. It's so _unfair_. She isn't _meant_ to know. Who could blame him for trying to protect himself? _It's not me_ , Jimmy corrects himself, tight-jawed. But he can't deny the fact that he's here, he's himself, at least for now, and he's still keeping Maya drugged in that room, letting hunger weaken her when she's not under.

Hunger! Panic clutches his throat. He can't remember if he's even brought her water since she's been at Sea View. What kind of host is he? He's doing himself a disservice here. He's done Maya a disservice already, the least he can do is provide a little comfort. "This won't do," he tuts to himself down in the office, and moves off towards the kitchen.

The energy darkens here. He tries to push it off, pulling a jacket over his shoulders to hold off the chill. The cooking is therapeutic for him. He loads a tray with as much as he can carry, all the things he thinks Maya might like, as if any amount of breakfast might make her forgive him. 

He takes the lift, his heartbeat quickening as he hears it groan its way to the first floor. Room 101.

Jimmy opens the door to a sharp gasp, and wonders if she'll try to run from him while his hands are full. _No_ , he corrects himself. He knows where he's hurt her. _Walking will be difficult._

He didn't predict the pang that sparks in his chest at the sight of Maya’s face. Bruised, bloodied, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. She has decided that it is best to be malleable. _My doing._

That's when he feels it, that expanse of space in him slowly beginning to fill. In an attempt to shake himself back to, he speaks, in as jovial of a voice as he can manage, "Good morning, Maya!"

As he talks, he realises how long it's been since he's done so without straining his voice to pain. She sat up at the sounds of the key in the lock, and now he sees her flinch at the sound of his voice, sees her turn her head after a moment as if gearing up to face him. _She's gaining mobility too fast._ He feels the sting of guilt at how afraid he has made her, how he has taken this brave girl and drugged the fight out of her as if that's not the fun in giving chase. Somewhere in that space, where the walls are creeping in, there's a little thrill in it, too.

"I've uh, brought you some breakfast. Looks like you need it, eh?" He gives as wide of a smile as he can to show the purity of his goodwill. Maya's brow furrows. She doesn't know what's brought about this change, and he can't afford to waste his own time on explaining, so instead he sits on the side of the bed and places the tray on her lap. The glass of orange juice tilts as she hesitates to take it, threatening to spill. "Whoops, can't be getting that on the sheets! Seems a waste to change them if you've only had them a night," He smiles again, staring into her face for any sign of recognition, either of this offering of a truce or how utterly him he is, but instead her eyes widen and she shuffles back so she is as far away from him as possible, words frozen in her throat. "No matter. Let's just make sure you're all okay, hm?" He reaches forward and takes the packet of plasters from the tray, unpeels one from its packaging, and leans forward so he can apply it to the single cut above her eyebrow. Maya audibly lets out a strangled sound in the back of her throat as he presses it to her skin and smooths it, and Jimmy tuts softly under his breath. "Yes, I'm afraid it does sting a bit at first. Silly of me to not wash it first, either. This will have to do." Maya begins to shake her head slowly, then thinks better of it. _Clever girl knows what's best for her_. He takes his hand away but doesn't move back, greedily drinking in her face this last moment he'll be able to. "Now young lady, don't go collecting any more of these!"

He has to move. At this proximity, he could throttle her. The thought sends him reeling back, until he's standing with his back to the wall. He can see that Maya is trembling, her eyes glassy. The guilt threatens to silence him. If it weren't for her friends, he would seriously consider letting her leave. No, that's another bad thought. _You can ply her with food as much as you like. She won't be leaving._

In the last moment of himself he can muster, as a futile last measure before he goes, Jimmy darts forward and kisses her awkwardly on the forehead. This is the only apology he can face. He can’t bear to stick around to see what she thinks of it.

The second he’s in the hallways, Jimmy presses his hands to his forehead and screams as silently as he can until his throat strains. He wonders if she's examining the food he brought her. _If she wants to starve, let her,_ he thinks, then corrects himself. He wishes he could go back in and _show her who's boss_ reassure her that everything is safe to eat. He wonders what she thought about the kiss. _Try again._ He shakes his head to clear it. Not much time left, none at all, he's used up, he's up, he's got to put some space between them, got to get to the lifts or _he'll_ do something terrible as soon as he's got the reins.

The journey down is his last moment of relief. As soon as he's on the ground floor, the thing in him is so entwined with his own self that he's stumbling as he makes his way to the office. _He left the device in the store room._ It's with inhuman strength that his body twists and he reaches the kitchen before he realises what he's doing, what he came for, and suddenly he has the bat, and something in him knows that it's over. He buys a little time for himself, for Maya, by making his way to the office for his ring of keys. He finds them, and when he looks up the long mirror holds him captive. For the first time today, he manages to face himself. Not taking his eyes off the mirror, he feels for his hat and crams it over his head, twisting it for good measure, a tiny comfort. _Showtime._

The ride back to the first floor is accompanied by the unique pain of your mind stretching to hold twice as many voices as it ought to. By the time the doors open, he's panting with eagerness, eagerness that isn't his, a calling. Then he hears it- the sound of the door. The snick of key in lock, the creak of it opening, a slam so quick he can just see her as she turns to run. _Run!_

He doesn't stop to think of how long she's been slowly, slightly working herself back to health. He's on her in seconds. Maya sees him, and he can tell she knows it's over too; something in her eyes dies. Her shoulders sag, and all she does is push open the nearest door and half fall into the room. He follows her, fumbles the door handle in his haste, and when he's in he throws open the bathroom door to no avail, then moves into the centre of the room. Before he can even consider the wardrobe, he hears a quiet groan of exertion close to his feet, and looks down to see a shadow melting into the darkness under the bed.

It's over so quickly. He drags Maya out by her ankles, sees how she barely has the strength to fight, her hands scrabbling for purchase like crabs. He fumbles for his bat, hoping that the half-second he wins back is enough to her to get away, but no, he has it in his hands, he circles it, so familiar, _oh_.

 _I am not doing this_ , Jimmy tells himself, _this is not me, this is not my fault, I am not doing this._

Still, something buried deep in him begins to cry as he begins.


End file.
